No Promises By Cheat Codes Novels & Stories

I was reborn back to 1975, when the child in my womb was three months old. I did not tell anyone and quietly had an abortion. However, I still wrapped cotton around my belly every day, pretending the baby was still there. In my past life, my husband Declan Huxley's childhood sweetheart Jane Patton and I gave birth on the same day. She had a healthy, ordinary baby boy. But my child looked nothing like us—he was mixed-race, with features of the Valorian people. Declan and I were both locals, so there was no way our son could look like this. Enraged, Declan scolded me in front of everyone, accusing me of cheating on him and having a disgraceful affair with a Valorian. No matter how many times I explained, no one believed me, and I became the shameful woman everyone pointed at. Worse still, Declan reported me and handed in some foreign letters he found at home, which led to me being taken by federal agents and sentenced as a spy. I spent ten years in prison, and when I finally walked out, I was nothing but skin and bones. Meanwhile, Declan had climbed the ranks for his so-called loyalty to the country. He held Jane's hand and brought along my real son, Seth Huxley, then threw 500 dollars at me like it was charity. He said, "Back then, Jane was accidentally deceived by someone else and gave birth to that brat. Unlike you, she has a gentle nature and couldn't endure hardship, so I had no choice but to switch your children. "This money is payment for your ten years and your reputation. You have a criminal record, and I already filed for divorce long ago to be with Jane. Seth also thinks you're not worthy of me, so you better take care of yourself." Seth also looked at me with disgust. "Mommy Jane treats me very well, and she's not like you; she's never been to prison. I don't want a mother like you!" When I learned the truth, the fury was so overwhelming that I had a stroke and died in despair. In this new life, I want to see how they plan to scheme against me when the child is already gone.

On the eve of my wedding, my fiance's first love, Sasha Green, ruined my custom-made wedding dress worth a fortune. The gown split open down the back. I had to crouch down and clutched my chest with both hands to keep myself from being exposed. She stood there holding a pair of scissors, looking at me with an innocent expression. "Anthea, I'm really sorry. I used a little bit too much force, and I accidentally ruined your dress. Please don't blame me." My fiance, Gary Dome, immediately went up to her and took the scissors from her hand. His voice was full of concern for her. "Why would she blame you? You were just trying to help trim some loose threads. If anything, it's her fault for being too fat, stretching the dress until it tore." Still crouching on the floor, I watched the two of them behave intimately. My gaze turned cold. The dress was ruined, and so was my dream. It was time to wake up.

Despite a decade of marriage, Simon never once shared my bed, claiming that he had pledged himself to ascetic practices and that it was beneath him. I thought that he suffered from some shameful ailment and guarded his secret like a devoted fool, until my birthday, when I came home to find him entangled with a brothel worker before the floor-length mirror. When I lunged forward in rage, he drove a shard of that broken mirror straight through my heart. When I awoke, I was gripping my phone, its screen illuminating a message Simon had just sent: [I’ll still give you a lavish wedding, but the marriage certificate? That belongs to her.]

Two years after we marry, my husband moves his sister and her family into our marital home. The four of them settle down and refuse to leave. So, I quit both my jobs. I laze around at home all day and splurge on various things. I have so many parcels delivered that they pile up by the door. Occasionally, I ask my husband and his sister for allowance. When the management office sends someone to chase for our maintenance fee, my husband breaks down so loudly that everyone in the building can hear him. He asks me whether I've lost my mind—who will support the family if I don't work? How will we survive without money? Am I going to allow our family to starve? So, it turns out he does know that we'll starve without anyone generating income. Why does he and his sister stay at home and plot to take away all my money, then?

Fedora Smith was done with love. Finished. Buried. Betrayal had ripped out her heart and torched it—her boyfriend of four years and her best friend of twenty-five caught pants down on the very anniversary sheets she gifted him. And their excuses? “You’re not attractive anymore.” “You took too long to marry him.” Fine. If love was a game, she was rewriting the rules. Now, she runs The Bridal Fix, an elite agency providing fake marriages for a steep price—rent-a-bride services for men needing to fool their families, secure an inheritance, or stage the perfect breakup. Fifteen weddings, fifteen divorces—no strings, no mess. Just business. Until Judah Carlstone. He hires her like the rest—one contract, one wedding, one payday. But Judah asks too many questions. Looks at her too long. And when he smirks and says— "Tell me, Fedora… how does it feel to say ‘I do’ and not mean it?" For the first time in years, she has no answer. Because this was never supposed to feel real.

I chase my six-year-old daughter out of the house on a cold winter day. I cut her new clothes to pieces and dirty her dainty little face with mud. Then, I give her all my savings. She looks at me tearfully and reaches out for me, wanting me to hold her. However, I harden my heart and push her away, saying, "Leave! Go to Bowen Group and look for their CEO, Logan Bowen. Show him my death certificate and your DNA test—he'll take you in." She sobs while looking at me. "Don't you want me anymore, Mommy? Let's go look for Daddy together." After a brief silence, I say, "I can't go with you. I lied to him back then to have you." Yes, I'm a liar. I orchestrated everything from meeting Logan, dating him, to ultimately leaving him with his child in my womb. Even the death certificate I've given my daughter is fake. From beginning to end, I've lied to him about everything except our daughter.

I receive a phone call at 3:00 pm. Apparently, my daughter, Marilyn Lopez, has suffocated to death because she was left behind on the school bus. When I arrive at the scene, I'm overwhelmed with sorrow the moment I see Marilyn's purple face. That's when I snatch a gun from a policeman and put a bullet between the eyes of the school bus driver, who's been playing on his phone this whole time. After the gunshot rings out, I open my eyes immediately. My alarm clock rings once again, showing that it's 7:00 am. I've gone back in time! Then, I see Marilyn wearing her backpack and telling me sweetly, "Mommy, the school bus is here!" I quickly stop Marilyn like a madwoman and refuse to let her board the school bus. But a gas leak occurs at 3:00 pm on the same day, causing Marilyn's death. No matter how much I try to save her, she keeps dying in various ways at 3:00 pm. This is the 108th cycle. As I stare at the weird smile on the school bus driver's face, I finally understand everything.

I leave my boyfriend without a word when he's at his lowest. He later makes a name for himself and forces me to marry him. Our relationship goes viral online and becomes the subject of everyone's envy. They all say he's desperately in love with me, but he later sleeps with other women in our bed. I fall from grace and become the city's biggest laughingstock. I don't cause a scene. Instead, I move into the guest bedroom and leave the master bedroom for them. He's furious as he grips my neck roughly. He bites my lips, drawing blood. "Why aren't you mad?" Because I'm sick. I don't have the time to wait for him to see the error of his ways anymore.

Angela Bailey spent six years believing her marriage was built on love, only to discover her devoted husband was nothing more than a polished illusion. When she filed for divorce and asked her daughter to leave with her, the little girl clung to another woman’s hand and called her “Mom.” Donald Turner, cold and entitled, told her, “As long as you apologize to Nina, you can still live your high-society life.” Angela scoffed. “You might not even stay in high society yourself.” She walked out of the Turner household with nothing, determined to rebuild her life from the ground up. With her own talent and grit, she joined a new company and went head-to-head with her ex. Just when Donald realized his mistake and wanted her back, another man stepped into Angela’s life—someone who protected her openly, supported her quietly, and cherished her without hesitation. Donald regretted everything and wanted her back. He appeared with their daughter, eyes red as he pleaded, “I’ll give you the entire Turner family. Please love me and our daughter again.” The man beside Angela laughed. “The Turner family? That means nothing. Angela doesn’t need it. And as for a daughter…” He looked at Angela, and together they said, “We already have one.”

Cold and proud to all, Beamon Slade, Northarch's strongest Alpha, reserves his gentleness solely for me. Everyone knows that I'm his Luna. But today, his first love is infected with deadly wolfsbane and on the brink of death. He hands me a herbal pill that can seal memories and temporarily remove the mate mark. "Eiro won't last another three days, Swan. "Could you give me three days to fulfill her dream of becoming a Luna through a symbolic marking ceremony? I won't hurt you. This pill temporarily severs the bond and makes you forget me. "When the ceremony ends three days later, take the antidote and you'll remember everything. We'll get back together." Looking at his calm, gentle expression, I silently swallow the pill without hesitation. He has no idea, but I crafted the pill with my own hands. There's no such thing as an antidote. Three days from now, I'll completely forget him. All our embraces, vows, marks, and his past gentleness will vanish with the wind.